Behind Closed Doors
by DallieJLovesBTR
Summary: AU His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Behind Closed Doors**  
><strong>Chapter 1<strong>  
><strong>Word Count: 1,375<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T, Possibly M later o<strong>**n**

**Pairings:**** Eventual James/Carlos, otherwise general.**

**Disclaimer:** **As much as I would like to, I do **_**not**_** own these boys… The only thing I own is the plot line and whatever OC's come up. This makes me sad, but oh well!**

**Warnings:** **Abuse, implied rape, self-harm  
><strong>**Summary:** AU **His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.**  
><strong>Author's Note: I have no idea where this came from, but it did, and I decided to actually act on it… Which, well, never happens. This is my first story, so I'm sorry if it sucks. Anyway, reviews would be great. I'm prepared for anything, even flames *pats helmet*. So yeah. :) R&amp;R <strong>_**please.**_** It's highly appreciated! So here I go with the first chapter!**

**Have a great day!**

**DallieJLovesBTR**

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><p><em>A four-year-old Carlos Garcia sits huddled in the corner of his room with his two-year-old brother, Mateo, in a desperate attempt to hide from their furious father. He Is on a rampage because Carlos' mother had not cooked dinner, too busy handling the two boys and the newborn baby girl, Belicia, to do it. Carlos could hear the baby crying from the room over, his father screaming at his mother, and his mother's screams of pain and fear. He put his hands over Mateo's ears, not wanting him to hear any of this. He can tell his father is hitting his mommy, and it's terrifying. <em>

_His mother's screams get louder and Carlos pushes his tiny hands harder onto his little brother's ears, hurting the smaller boy. Carlos' eyes well up with tears when he hears his mommy go quiet, suddenly. And the next thing he hears is his father stomp down the hall into the room right next to his, and his father starts screaming at the crying baby. Carlos doesn't know what's happening, but the baby sounds like she is coughing or not being able to breathe. Carlos holds his breath. His father is still screaming as the baby goes quiet. The tears spill over and, though he is not quite sure what, he knows something is really wrong with the baby. She almost never stops crying._

_Carlos holds his brother tighter as his father stomps past their room, silently praying that he doesn't do anything to them. It seems God has answered his prayers when his father lets out a frustrated growl and goes into his room, slamming the door behind him. Carlos quietly lets out the breath he had been holding for what seemed like forever and drops his hands from his brother's ears. The bigger boy holds a finger up to his mouth, telling the younger to remain quiet before he crawls to the door._

_He looks at his father's closed door before quickly making his way to the nursery. He quietly pushes open the door and goes in. The baby is lying in the crib, unmoving. Carlos stands up and runs silently to the baby. She is quiet and still. Carlos can't see any rise or fall in the tiny chest. More tears slip from his eyes as he makes a horrible realization for a four-year-old. The small baby that had been born just recently was dead. He falls to the floor, silently sobbing at the sight. He wipes off his eyes and crawls back to the door._

_Taking one last glance at the small child, he crawls out of the room and into the hallway. He decides to check on his mommy, quickly, before going back to little Mateo._

_He speedily goes to the living room, where he sees his mother lying on the floor. Her right arm is bent at an awkward angle and she is bloody, extremely. She's bruising all over her body very quickly, the deep purple color all over her face and arms. Carlos lets out a sigh of relief when he sees her chest rise up slowly. She is at least alive. He crawls over to her and hurriedly kisses her cheek before speeding back to his room._

_Mateo hadn't moved an inch; he still sat cuddled in the corner of the room. Carlos ran over to his brother and wrapped his arms around him. "What wong, Cawwos?" The little boy asked his brother, noticing the tears on his face._

_Carlos squeezed his brother and avoided the question. "I wuv you, bwothah." He whispered into the smaller's hair. There they sat until finally falling asleep on the floor._

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><p>Sixteen-year-old Carlos Garcia ran a comb through his hair before slipping on his helmet. He quickly checked himself in the mirror. His arms and legs were completely covered, his face had enough foundation on, no one would be able to tell anything. He practiced his smile again and then his laugh. He checked his bag for his extra foundation, his just-in-case cover-up. He did this all as quietly as he could, even in knowing his father had already left for the station, out of habit.<p>

He quickly checked his bag, making sure he had everything he needed. "Carlos, you ready?" The boy jumped slightly at the sudden voice. He looked up to see Mateo leaning against the beige wall of their small apartment in Jackson, Minnesota.

"Yeah, as ready as I can be. Did you make lunches?" His brother nodded, holding up two brown bags. "Okay, let's go." Carlos tossed the comb into his bag, before slinging them into his pocket. He grabbed is apartment key and phone as he walked to the door. He locked the door behind them and began the twenty minute walk to the Jackson Senior High School. Carlos was a junior, Mateo a freshman.

Mateo was big, towering over his older brother a good foot and a half. His hair was much like Carlos', dark and straight. It clung to his tan face and hung to his chocolate eyes. Carlos never understood why he refused to cut it, but didn't argue much with his brother about it. He fought enough with his father.

The pair walked in utter silence. One would occasionally look at the other, as if to make sure they were still there. When they reached the school the nodded a good-bye to each other and went their separate ways. Mateo to his ever so wonderful druggie friends and Carlos of to his friends on the hockey team.

"Yo, Carlitos!" One of his best friends, James Diamond, hollered upon seeing him, waving subtlety. The two he was talking to, Carlos' other two best friends, Logan Mitchell and Kendall Knight, turned to face him. They waved and quickly made space for him inside their circle.

"Hey guys, what's up?" Carlos asked as he set his bag down.

"Oh, the usual. Logan is freaking out about some test he has in AP Calculus. James is freaking out about his hair, worrying that a certain someone won't like it. Don't ask, he won't tell. And I'm trying to calm them both down. What about you, buddy?" Kendall said, calmly.

Carlos laughed. "Just running late, as always. Mateo took forever this morning." He lied smoothly, they didn't need to know why he was actually late. "I really don't understand how he can. It takes him five minutes to get ready. But, no. That boy refuses to get up in the morning." The boys laughed and Carlos smiled at them.

"You boys excited for the game tonight?" Someone said suddenly from behind Carlos. He jumped slightly, earning him a few confused looks. "Sorry, dude." The guy stepped beside him. It was the team goalie, Dak Zevon.

Carlos nodded, and remained calm. At least on the outside, for on the inside, he was going crazy. How could he have forgot about their game? They had been talking about it all week during practice. It was away, he wouldn't be home until eleven. It was one of the biggest games of the season, deciding whether or not they would go to play-offs. It was his night to make dinner. There would be hell to pay when he got home. "I totally forgot about the game! My dad's going to kill me!" _Possibly literally, _he thought to himself.

"I'm sure he'll understand," James told him, patting him on the shoulder. "I mean, it's hockey. What could be more important?" _Let's see. Making his food, cleaning up after him, keeping Mateo safe. _

"Yeah, of course. Hockey, no big deal. Dad'll understand…" He said, more trying to convince himself of that than anything else. His friends smiled at him and made a couple of jokes before the first bell rang. They did a quick high-five with everyone before heading off in their different directions.

The whole way to his first period history class, Carlos let his face slip into the fright he now felt. His father would never understand, his father cared so much more about _himself_ and _his _needs. Carlos nervously pulled at his helmet straps as he sat through history, not really paying attention. Much more worried about his situation when he were to get home tonight.

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><p><strong>So? Great? Good? Bad? Terrible? Just let me know! Reviews would be great! Thanks for reading. I'll try and get another chapter up soon, if y'all like it. Like I said, just let me know. I'm sorry if that was horrid, but oh well. Have a good day ev'ryone! Peace!:)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Behind Closed Doors**  
><strong>Chapter 2<strong>  
><strong>Word Count:<strong>** 1,261**  
><strong>Rating: T, Possibly M later on<strong>

**Pairings:**** Eventual James/Carlos, otherwise general.**  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> **I have a nickel… Is that enough to buy the rights to the show and characters and all? NO? Oh dang… I guess I**_** don't**_** own BTR**  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> **Abuse, implied rape, self-harm  
><strong>**Summary:** AU **His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.**  
><strong>Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who put the story on alert and reviewed! You guys have no idea how much that means to me. Like, seriously, it just touches my heart to know someone likes it. *tears up a little* thanks again! I think I am going to do three more, maybe four of the flashback-type-thing-a-ma-bobs at the beginning. It depends on if it I think I've told enough of Carlos' past or not. This one his six and it's really short! Anyway, here's the next chapter. Again, reviews are always fantastic!<strong>

**Oh, and just so y'all know, this chapter, the beginning anyway, was terribly hard for me to write. I almost decided not to do it.**

**Read on!**

**DallieJLovesBTR**

_Six-year-old Carlos sits on the floor of his room while he watches Spongebob with his brother. He's not usually allowed to do this, so he doesn't question why his mother is letting him. His father never allows them to have any fun, part of his rules. _No watching television._ Carlos didn't ask his mother why she looked so sad, why she looked so guilty. If he had, she might not be sitting in the room across the hall, gun in hand, ready to pull the trigger._

_The sound the gun made echoed through the quiet, Missouri home. Echoed through the two children's ears. Carlos ripped his attention from the TV and jumped up. He quickly told his brother to stay put and walked out of the room. "Mommy?" he whispered after closing the door. He walked down the hall and looked into the living room and the kitchen. She wasn't there. Carlos ran back down the hall, screaming for his mommy, checking the bathroom and the old nursery. He checked the laundry room and the garage. He lastly checked her room._

_Carlos couldn't believe his young eyes. Blood was quickly pouring from his mother's head and a handgun, much like the toy ones he saw in the store, laid in her hand. Her body was limp and still on the bed. Carlos didn't know what to do, but he remember what his mommy always told him to do if something terrible happened. _Call 911.

_He ran to the living room and grabbed the phone, hurriedly dialing. When someone answered the phone, he went into panic mode, automatically stuttering and bawling. The person on the phone tried calming him down, at least enough to know what the situation was. When they failed, they immediately tracked the call._

_Mateo heard his brother crying and came running out, against his brothers wishes. He found his big brother curled in a ball, holding the phone to his chest and sobbing. "Cawwos!" He screamed, running over and grabbing his brother's hand. Tears started to fall from the smaller boy's eyes, he didn't know what was wrong, but seeing his big, strong brother crying made him break down._

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><p>Carlos sat on the bus back to the high school, nervously tapping his foot. They had won the game and everyone else was celebrating making it into playoffs, but he couldn't keep his mind off of his brother. His brother, who was home alone with an evil person, their father. God only knew what was happening to Mateo and that made Carlos sick to his stomach. He was supposed to <em>protect <em>his brother, not leave him there at the will of a twisted, sick person. Carlos prayed his father knew it wasn't the younger's fault and he wouldn't hurt him.

Suddenly, James slid into the empty space beside him and wrapped an arm around the small Latino's shoulders. "C'mon, budday! Why aren't you celebrating? We're going to the big games. This is our shot at championship. You scored at least three shots tonight, party! The guys are all coming to my house tonight, you should come. A couple of drinks and lots a sugar. It'll be so much fun." The tall boy looked down at Carlos expectantly.

Carlos frowned. He really did want to go, but he knew his father couldn't wait a whole night to hit someone. His brother would be in even more danger if he did. Carlos shook his head. "Sorry, man, I can't. My dad wanted tonight to be family night. And because of the game, that couldn't really happen. He'll want to hang out with me." His voice shook slightly, and he silently scolded himself for being such a wimp. He had to be tough, or else they would figure something out.

James lips turned down, he really wanted Carlos to be able come. But he wasn't about to stop him. James knew the Latino cherished the time he had with his father, his father was always busy at the station. But James could also tell something was off. The quiver in the small boy's voice wasn't ever there. He shook it off. "Okay… Maybe, tomorrow?"

Carlos nodded and resumed silently tapping his foot. He felt James get up and move back to the party. He wished he had stayed. He always felt a little safer with the tall boy beside him. But at the moment he let the feeling pass, he had more important things to think about at the moment.

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><p>Carlos apprehensively approached his apartment door, hastily turning the knob and going in. The first thing he sees is Mateo sitting in the chair facing the door. The boy had a busted lip and an eye that was quickly going black. That was all he could see, anything else that may have happened was hidden under clothing. Carlos was infuriated. "We had a deal!" He shouted, stomping into the living room where he knew his father would be lounging on the couch, as if nothing was wrong.<p>

His father looked up from the newspaper he held in hand and folded it in half, setting it to the side, before pushing himself off the couch. He said, in a voice that sent chills down Carlos' spine, "You weren't here, and I had a bad day. Where were you Carlos? You're his protecter. You're supposed to take the hits."

Carlos shook his head sharply, "I was at hockey! We had a game tonight."

His father frowned, he had no knowledge of this game, he believed Carlos was supposed to be home making dinner for him and being a punching bag for the sake of his poor, little brother. "Did it occur to you that I wanted dinner from you tonight? You always do make the best spaghetti, just like your mother does. Oh, excuse me, used too." The large cop took two steps towards Carlos, subconsciously stepped backwards to remain the same distance from his father.

"Don't say that." He said through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice low and steady. He turned his eyes to his brother who was sitting staring at the wall behind Carlos, not watching what was sure to unfold in seconds. Carlos turned his eyes back to his father. He was smirking in victory, knowing he had angered his son with his remark.

The large Latino shook his head in disappointment. "I wouldn't have had too, if you had been home on time. " Carlos barely had time to blink before his father charged at him, right fist flying at Carlos face. It hit his left cheek with force, pain shot across his whole face. His father laughed and threw another punch at his gut. The hit was harder than the last, causing the wind to leave Carlos' lungs and him to double over in pain. His father continued to laugh and beat Carlos. A punch to the upper back, a kick to the middle of the right shin, a fist to the ribs on his right. Bones cracked and blood trickled. It went on for a good hour, until the pain caused Carlos to pass out. After he had fallen to the floor, his father kicked him once more in the side and looked horror-stricken Mateo in the eyes. "Pick him up and be quiet about it, or your next," He said with an expressionless face. He left the room without another word.

Mateo ran to his brother's side, shaking him and whispering, "Carlos! Carlos, wake up! I need you to wake up! I need you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: Behind Closed Doors**  
><strong>Chapter 3<strong>  
><strong>Word Count:<strong>** 1,308**

**Rating: T, Possibly M later on**

**Pairings:**** Eventual James/Carlos, and I decided to have undertones of Kendall/Logan somehow, otherwise general.**  
><strong>Disclaimer: I, DallieJLovesBTR, do not, no matter how sad this makes me, own Big Time Rush.<strong>  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> **Abuse, implied rape, self-harm  
><strong>**Summary:** AU **His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.**  
><strong>Author's Note: This flashback is going to be a bit more of a positive one. I couldn't do another sad one. That just wouldn't have worked for me, I would slap myself. HARD. Anyway, yeah… Thanks again for reviews and stuff. It really does make me happy to see those things when I check my e-mail. OH! And in this chapter, I'll be focusing on James for a little. Time for some time in James head, don't you agree?<strong>

**ENJOY.**

**DallieJLovesBTR**

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><p><em>Carlos, now eight-years-old, sits on the school bus, holding his little brother's hand on the bus to their new school. Their father had been offered a job on the Jackson, Minnesota Police Department, just as the old town began to figure out what was going on in the small home. But, no, the man got off scot free from his crimes when he waved good-bye to the town and dragged his children from the city with their mother and sister's remains.<em>

_Mateo leaned on his brother's shoulder, and squeezed his hand nervously. He didn't like meeting new people for fear they would all hurt him like the man who raised him did. The idea of moving and a new town frightened him more than anything. Carlos rubbed circles on the back of the smaller hand reassuringly.__"It'll be okay, Matty, no one will hurt you here," He whispered to his brother as they pulled up to the school. Carlos bit his lip, realizing that now he'd have to leave his brother. He didn't know if Mateo could handle that, he didn't know if _he _could handle that. He picked up his backpack quickly and gently pushed his brother out of the bus seat._

_He held the small hand tightly in his and walked to the kindergarten hall. He looked for the room that had the name of his brother's teacher above the door. He found the room at the end of the hall. Mateo's teacher, Ms. Criss, was a young woman, fresh out of college. She was kneeling down talking to one of the other students right inside the door. Carlos gave his brother's hand one last squeeze and gave him a quick hug. "She looks nice." He said. "Just tell her you're new, okay?"_

_Mateo nodded and gave his brother another hug. "I love you, Carlos." He smiled slightly at the older boy and turned around, walking into the room._

"_I love you, too. See you after school." He hollered at his brother, before running out of the hall. He ran to Mr. McMills second grade classroom. He was one of the last people in the small classroom. He approached the tall, mascular man and stood in front of his desk. _

"_Uhm, hi." He whispered. The man at the desk barely heard him, looking up from his paperwork slowly. "I'm Carlos Garcia, I'm new."_

_The man smiled at the small, mumbling boy. "Yes. I'm Mr. McMills, most of the kids call me Mr. M. I have a desk set up with all the books and other things you'll need. If you don't get something, don't be scared to ask, okay?" Carlos nodded and the man led him to a desk. He pointed the separate books out to Carlos and told him where they were before heading back to his desk. _

_Carlos sat down, and shifted awkwardly in his seat. He looked to the boy in the seat next to him. The boys brown hair falls to just above his hazel eyes. His cheeks are bright red, even on his tanned skin. He is busily coloring a piece of paper, not seeming to notice him. Carlos looked down at his desk and fiddled with his thumbs. The teacher told the class they have five more minutes before class will start, and the boy next to Carlos put up his supplies. Carlos kept his eyes glued to the desk, placing his hands in his lap. _

_The boy next to him looks over, and smiles widely. "I'm James." He tells Carlos, who looks over at him with a slight smile._

"_Carlos." He whispers._

"_Are you new?" James asked, curiously. Carlos nodded and James continued. "Do you want to be my friend? I can introduce you to my friends and with us no one can pick on you for being the new kid."_

_Carlos looked up at the tall boy, his smiled growing to cross his whole face. He nodded vigorously. They pair started chatting about nothing in particular until the teacher called the class to attention. _

_It was there, sitting next to that boy, that Carlos made a vow to be someone completely different here than he was at his old school, be someone completely different than he was at home. He would be carefree and innocent, as if his home life was perfectly normal._

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><p>It was Tuesday before Carlos woke from his pain induced coma. He woke up in his bed, Mateo holding his hand and passed out in the chair. He blinked a few times before looking at the clock. <em>6:14 A.M.<em> Carlos turned his head to his brother's sleeping form. He noticed the puffy eye and purple cheek. He looked at the uncovered arms. They were almost completely purple. Carlos shook his head and pushed himself up from the bed. He groaned loudly, it wasn't one of his best ideas. His whole body was aching, his arms, his legs, his chest.

Mateo shifted in his sleep and opened his eyes. His eyes locked on Carlos instantly, and he jumped up. "Carlos! You're up." He said; his voice was full of relief. Carlos nodded not quite ready to use his voice. "That's fantastic. I was really starting to worry." He wrapped his arms around his small, older brother. Carlos flinched at the contact. Mateo pulled back instantly. "Sorry…"

"It's okay." Carlos whispered with a hoarse voice. "How long have I been out?" he asked.

"It's Tuesday."

"Tuesday?" He exclaimed. "Shit." He ran a hand through his hair.

Mateo nodded. "If I didn't know how to check for a pulse, I would've thought you were dead. Are you okay?" Carlos nodded. "Do you think you can go to school?" He shook his head, he could barely move. His friends would know something was wrong. Mateo nodded. "Okay… Just… Rest up. Don't leave your bed, please. I don't want you getting any worse. Take some pain medication, and sleep some more." Carlos nodded again. "I'm going to get ready and go to school. I'll be home right after. Bye, bro." He kissed his brother's forehead gently and left the room.

Carlos plopped down onto his pillow heavily and let himself drift off again, thoughts of how he had abandoned his brother for days filling his head and his dreams.

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><p>James flicked his hair out of his eyes as he continued to look around the halls for his little Latino. He hadn't been at school the day before, and now, the minute bell was about to ring and he still wasn't there. Carlos never missed school, and James was a little worried that he wasn't there. That and he really liked having the little guy around to keep things interesting.<p>

He loved the way Carlos was just a little kid, in a teenager's body. His innocence and goofiness brightened up his day. His smile brightened up a room and you couldn't help but feel happy around the small kid. James wasn't sure… But he thought he might just be in love with the kid. He was always closer to him than any of the other guys, always hanging around and talking him through things he didn't understand.

James felt someone suddenly hit his arm, hard, pulling him out of his thoughts. "James," Logan said, "The minute bell just rang, we're going to be late. Who're you looking for anyway? You're crush?" He joked.

"No!" James said quickly, possibly a little too quickly. "I mean, no. Just looking around for people."

Kendall laughed, "Suuuure, you were. You should see your face, you're red as a tomato."

James hands shot up to cover his cheeks, even though the damage was already done. "Whatever, I'm going to class." He picked up his bag and stalked off to class without saying goodbye or looking back.

_Is that what Carlos is? _He asked himself. _My crush?_

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><p><strong>So? What'd'ya think? Be sure to review! <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: Behind Closed Doors**  
><strong>Chapter 4<strong>  
><strong>Word Count:<strong>

**Rating: T, Possibly M later on**

**Pairings:**** Eventual James/Carlos, and I decided to have undertones of Kendall/Logan somehow, otherwise general.**  
><strong>Disclaimer: Yeah, I still don't own BTR.<strong>  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> **Abuse, implied rape, self-harm  
><strong>**Summary:**** AU ****His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.**  
><strong>Author's Note: Sorry if this sucks, especially the flashback part. I wanted to update sometime this week and the week is coming to a close… . I don't think it'll be too bad though. But that's not up for me to decide! That's your choice. R&amp;R friends!:) <strong>

**One last thing… This'll probably be changed to M after I post the next chapter… Just fair warning.**

**Filler chapter's suck... -_-**

**DallieJLovesBTR**

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><p><em>Carlos, now nine, is being forced to sit and watch as his father beat up his brother. It hurt him more than anything. More than the time he fell out off tree and broke his arm. More than the time he tripped on the ice and knocked his two front teeth out. This hurt his heart, and nothing could hurt more than the pang of guilt he had every time his brother whimpered out in pain. <em>

_His eyes shifted around the room as he tried to figure out a way to be Mateo's hero. There was nothing near he could use to throw at his father, no lamp or baseball. So, Carlos did the first thing he could think of. _

"_Stop it!" He screamed, jumping up from the couch. "Stop. Don't hurt him anymore." His father looked down on him and he couldn't help but hunch to hide his face._

"_Who do you want me to hit? You?" The tall man laughed evilly. Carlos looked at his toes and nodded slightly. His father laughed even harder. "Oh look, you're being such a big boy! Standing up for your stupid, little brother." He spat at Carlos. "I'll make you a deal, Carly. You be my punching bag, and I won't touch a hair on his head."_

_Carlos looked up at his baby brother, who was shaking his head at his brother and silently pleading with him that he wouldn't let the evil man do that. Carlos saw him swaying slightly where he was, and knew he had to do this._

_He looked back up at the man above him. He took a deep breath before saying. "Deal."_

_His wicked father laughed again and raised a fist. "Then let the beating begin." He slammed his hand into the small child's face, beginning the first of hundreds of nights that Carlos would forever be scarred from._

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><p>Thursday, Carlos was back and being goofy with his friends, even against Mateo's wishes. He brightened his friends' days with his presence and jokes, but he also had them worried. He was limping around the school and grimaced with every touch he got, even a slight pat on the shoulder.<p>

James was the most worried for his small friend. The fact the smallest and youngest of them was in so much pain had him freaking out. He didn't want to think the thoughts that were slowly but surely making their way into his head. He didn't want to believe them, but the way that Carlos was acting made the thoughts seem real and true.

He smiled as Carlos slid into the seat next to him in English class. Carlos couldn't wipe a familiar look off his face, and James knew he had done something. _Probably put tacks in that idiot teacher's seat, _he thought to himself.

James looked over at his friend, who was bouncing up and down in anticipation for his prank. James had to fight the frown that threatened to show. He couldn't believe that, after not showing his face for three days or calling or texting any of his friend's, Carlos was acting the same as always. Almost as if he was never sick, or whatever he had been. James opened his mouth to ask Carlos exactly why he was gone, when the bell rang and the teacher came in to hush the class.

James frowned and turned his attention to the front of the room. Mrs. Dubbin had pulled out her seat and was sitting down, and Carlos was bouncing even faster. James smirked, and watched in amusement as his teacher sat down and jumped right back up, screaming loudly. The class erupted in laughter and the teacher glared daggers at them as she reached back and pulled out a few tacks.

Carlos smiled widely at James as the teacher started lecturing the class about respect and how it was rude to do such 'childish things to an authority figure.' James smiled back and gave him a thumbs up. Carlos' eyes lit up in glee before he turned his attention back to the woman at the front.

_He really is cute…_

**So, yeah… Sorry that sucked so terribly and that it was so short… Next chapter will be kind of dramatic. I don't know. Maybe. Tell me what y'all think. Please? I could use some reviews. :) Reviewer's get a sneak peak of the next chapter?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: Behind Closed Doors**  
><strong>Chapter 5<strong>  
><strong>Word Count:<strong>** 1,530**

**Rating: T, Possibly M later on**

**Pairings:**** Eventual James/Carlos, and I decided to have undertones of Kendall/Logan somehow, otherwise general.**  
><strong>Disclaimer: Yeah, I still don't own BTR.<strong>  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> **Abuse, implied rape, self-harm  
><strong>**Summary:**** AU ****His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.**  
><strong>Author's Note: Woah… Chapter five already? Well… I'm glad for the response on this… I mean I really like writing it and knowing people like it is great… And I'm going to try making the chapter's from this point on be a little longer… But, yeah… I might fail at that. Anyway. Chapter five! <strong>

**Oh, and I decided last chapter's flash back was the last one. Just so you know.**

**Last bit of rambling, I'll be posting another story sometime this upcoming week, be sure to check it out! It's KOGAN!**

**Yeah…**

**DallieJLovesBTR**

_**WARNING: There is some non-con in this chapter… Just fyi.**_

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><p>The Garcia's apartment was deadly silent as Carlos sat at the oven while making his father's dinner. He had forced Mateo to leave the house, not wanting the fourteen-year-old to be around when his father did his beating. Carlos had a strange feeling no one in the home would be safe tonight.<p>

Carlos was setting the table when he heard the door swing open and hit the wall before it was slammed back shut. "Mateo!" He heard Mr. Garcia shout. "Get your ass over here!"

Carlos walked to the living room, where his father was standing, a furious look on his face as he stood impatiently. "He went out." Carlos said, no emotion in his voice as he stared at his father blankly.

The man turned to face his eldest child and a smirk found its way to his lips. He chuckled and took a few steps. "Carlos, how nice of you to return to the land of the living. I've missed you. Mateo is no fun to punch; he doesn't try to stay quiet." He laughed and grabbed Carlos' shoulder. Carlos shut his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay still. His father laughed again. "How do you feel about leaving your poor, little brother to suffer while you were knocked out?"

"Shut up." Carlos whispered, not opening his eyes. His father smirked and continued ranting about how bad of a brother Carlos was and how he might as well leave Mateo all to Mr. Garcia. "Shut up." He said a little louder. The man just laughed more and continued to rant about the subject. Carlos was seeing spots of red as his anger grew. How could his father say this? He was a great brother, he had been taking the abuse for _years_. He had been taking care of brother who could only ever hope that his older brother would last until he was eighteen. Carlos scowled at the wall he was facing before roughly pulling his shoulder from his father's grasp. "I said, shut up!" He screamed and shoved his father away from him. He was shaking from the pure rage that was filling him. He stared at his father, who had stumbled a few steps away, as he straightened up and glared at his son.

"You're going to regret that." He growled before pouncing at his son. Carlos jumped back, narrowly dodging his father. Now, looking into the eyes of the beast, he was scared out of his wits. This man was angrier at him than he had ever been in his life, Carlos could tell. His eyes were nearly black with rage, hands curled into tight fists, ready to swing at any moment. Carlos suddenly didn't know what to do, any idea he had leaving his mind. So… He ran.

That was his first bad idea. His father grabbed a fistful of his shirt, yanking him back. He was violently turned around, before being punched in the jaw. The next mistake was swinging his fist back as he fell to the ground. Upon reaching the ground, he was filled with dread and regret. He looked up into soulless eyes and he scooted backwards into the door. He reached the door, and his heart sunk, knowing there was nowhere else to hide. He whimpered out slightly when his father yanked him back up and started screaming profanities at him, Carlos was sure his shoulder was dislocated. His father started throwing his fists at Carlos' face and gut as he continued his screaming. Carlos didn't even bother holding in his pain as he wondered how no one was hearing him and coming to his rescue. His whimpers grew louder as the hits just kept coming, and his father stopped screaming and began laughing.

He released his grip on Carlos' shirt before pushing him into the door. Carlos slid to the floor, gripping his stomach, his eyes never leaving the man who was manically laughing and smiling. Carlos watched in horror as his father's laughter calmed to slight chuckles. The man seemed like a giant as he bent down to look into Carlos' fear stricken eyes and smiled. "You know, Carlos, I think I have the perfect punishment for you." He grabbed onto Carlos' shirt once more and yanked him up. His father licked his lips and laughed once more before using his free hand to undo his belt and pants.

_Why would he be doing that? _Carlos asked himself before the terror of the situation hit him. The alarms went off in his brain and he tried to pull away from the tight grip on his shirt. _No, NO! _He silently screamed as his father went for _his _pants. His scream slowly became vocal, until his father slapped him and shouted at him to be quiet, warning him that it would only make the situation worse for him. Carlos quieted to only whimpering as his father turned him around and pushed him into the door. _This can't be happening…_ He felt air on his ass and started swinging around again, his punishment a slap on the back of his head. His father laughed noisily before roughly shoving into Carlos. Carlos cried out loudly and received a punch in the back. He sucked in his lips and clenched his eyes closed. He held in all his pain as he father continued to thrust in and out of him, the tight grip his father had held on his hips was surely going to leave a bruise. Minutes passed that felt like hours and Carlos felt like he was being torn apart. His father's breathing was becoming erratic and he released the product of his pleasure into Carlos. He sat there for a few moments before pulling out of his son, pushing the small boy to the floor like a rag. Carlos heard him zip up his pants and mess with his belt before laughing once more and leaving the room.

Carlos laid still by the living room door for a while, holding in his emotions as best he could. He rolled over onto his back before he pushed himself up off the floor and pulled his pants back to his waist. He walked quickly to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. He slid to the floor and the waterfall of tears began. His emotions took over as he curled into a tight ball in the corner. He didn't move, and the tears didn't stop for well over an hour.

He just sat there and cried until no more tears would come. He wiped the tears from his face and sat for a few moments, just looking around until he spotted something that glistened slightly on the tub. He cocked his head to the left for a moment before crawling over to the shining object. He picked it up and rolled it over in his hand a few times. It was a razor. He chuckled darkly; he never thought he'd be the one thinking of doing this. He pulled at a blade for a minute, failing to loosen it from the hold the razor had on it. He frowned and slammed the razor into the wall. The razor shattered and the five separate blades fell to the floor.

Carlos smiled, picking up four of the five blades and putting them in the cabinet under the sink. He picked up the last one and turned it over once in his hand. He sighed and pulled up the sleeve on his left arm. He took the sharp end of the blade and placed it onto his wrist. He pressed down and winced slightly when the pressure become enough to draw blood. He dragged it across and clenched his teeth. He moved the razor higher up his arm and sliced again, and again, and again. He looked down after making the four cuts and smiled darkly. He was practically dripping blood and he felt lighter, the pain in his arm distracting him from everything else at that precise moment.

He grabbed a towel and wiped his arm off. It stung slightly and Carlos just laughed. He… enjoyed the pain. He put the last razor with rest after wiping it off and then sifted through the cabinet for something to wrap his wrist in. He found gauze and wrapped his arm tightly. He stared at his wrist for a few seconds before putting it to his side and pulling down his sleeve. His face showed no emotion when he left the bathroom. His brother still was not home, the time only being about nine thirty. He sighed in almost relief. He walked to his bedroom and changed into pajamas, glancing occasionally at his still bleeding wrist.

As he laid himself to sleep that night, his mind filled with horrible thoughts. The guys would hate him if they found out how fucked up he was, that he was sure of. His father was worse than ever at this point. Mateo could never find out what happened, _ever_, Carlos would make sure of it. Carlos pulled his cut wrist to his chest and held it tightly.

_What is wrong with me?_

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><p><strong>You all have <strong>_**NO IDEA **_**how hard that was for me to write. NO FREAKING IDEA. I was dying. Just. Dying. Hope that was okay! REVIEW PLEASE. You might get a little special something!:)**

**That was the longest chapter so far, just so y'all know. **

**Cheers.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: Behind Closed Doors****  
><strong>**Chapter 6****  
><strong>**Word Count: 817**

**Rating: M!**

**Pairings:**** Eventual James/Carlos, and I decided to have undertones of Kendall/Logan somehow, otherwise general.****  
><strong>**Disclaimer: Yeah, I still don't own BTR.****  
><strong>**Warnings:****Abuse, implied rape, self-harm  
><strong>**Summary:**** AU ****His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.  
><strong>**Author's Note: Hey! Sorry it took me so long to update. I really couldn't think of how to write this chapter. I knew how I wanted to go about it, but I just couldn't get it down on paper! So, if this chapter sucks, I apologize. It's also kind of another filler…**

**Uhm, yeah. School started today, so do not be surprised if it does take me longer to update now. I have to get used to school and marching band and all that jazz. So, I apologize beforehand that the updates will take longer!**

**Also, my Kogan story… Yeah, it ain't happening. But! My friend wrote a story similar to what I was going to write. The story is **_**It's Complicated**_** by MaddieIsWhatIAm. It's a one of a kind story, and it truly is fantastic. I suggest you all read it. It's really good. So, please, do yourself a favor and go read it!**

**On another **_**final**_** note, I will be posting another story soon. It'll be Jarlos, filled with plenty of angsty James. The title will be **_**My Own Murderer.**_** I don't know how I feel about it yet, so when I post it, go check it! Anyway, here's the next chapter!**

**Thanks!:)**

**DallieJLovesBTR**

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><p>Carlos didn't sleep much that night, his own thoughts keeping him awake. He was awake when Mateo entered their bedroom at two in the morning, awake when his father's alarm went off for him to go to work, awake when his own alarm went off at six. He sat up slowly, wincing at the pain that shot through his body at the movement. He groaned as he pushed himself off the bed. Every movement hurt as he went through his morning routine. As he and his brother were about to leave, he slipped on his helmet. He looked at himself in the mirror and sighed, slipping the helmet back off and setting it down. He felt no comfort or protection with it on his head after last night.<p>

The walk to school was uncomfortably silent, no words being exchanged. Carlos stared at his feet and his brother eyed him suspiciously. Upon reaching the school, Carlos turned away from Mateo without any words. Mateo watched his brother head to his friends, scowling at furrowing his brows. Something was off with his older brother, he just knew it. He shook his head, glancing once more at Carlos before heading off to his friends.

Carlos tugged at his sleeves while listening to his friends talk around him. He had nothing to say, and stood leaning awkwardly against his locker. He pulled at the strings on his hoodie, beginning to ignore his friends. His mind once again filled with negative thoughts as he stood there. He stared at the laces on his shoes and didn't look at anyone, afraid they would know the thoughts wondering through his head.

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><p>James had stopped chatting with his friends, his focus turned to his little Latino friend. The younger boy said nothing and was fussing with everything he was wearing, as if he was nervous about something. James' hazel eyes studied his friend intensely, every little move the smaller made he began analyzing them. <em>He's tugging on his sleeves, what is he hiding? Why won't he look up? Is he sick? Why is he so quiet? <em> These were some of many thoughts that raced through James' mind as he watched his crush.

He sighed, flipping the hair out of his eyes. Logan and Kendall were deep in conversation, James could hear them, but all he heard were mixed up words. He picked up his bags and mumbled a good-bye to his friends. He ran to the bathroom, knowing he had a few minutes before class. He ripped out a spiral from his bag, turning to a blank page quickly. He began scribbling words onto the page, getting about half way down before hearing the minute bell. He shoved the spiral back into his bag, sprinting to class.

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><p>Kendall looked at Logan during science class, laughing at the small brunettes face. His eyebrows were scrunched in concentration and his fingers tapped on the side of his face. Kendall pulled his hand from his face and held it beneath the table, rubbing soft circles on the back of the small hand. The class was loud, having some free time today after the lesson. Kendall leaned closer to Logan's face and whispered to him, "What's wrong, Logie?"<p>

Logan relaxed his face and turned to face the blonde. "Do you think James likes Carlos?" he asked quietly. Kendall furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, giving Logan a look that clearly said, _Well, duh._ Logan shook his head. "No, I mean, of course he likes Carlos. But I mean, do you think James like Carlos in a way stronger than just friends? You know, like how we like each other?"

Kendall nodded in understanding. He could understand what he meant, the looks James always gave the smaller boy were looks of longing and want. They had always been closer to each other than either of them had been with Kendall or Logan. "It's highly possible." Kendall told the genius.

Logan squeezed Kendall's hand quickly and asked another question Kendall hadn't been expecting. "Do you think there's something going on with Carlos? Yesterday, he was himself. But today… He was silent before classes begun and I didn't even see him at lunch."

Kendall nodded, but didn't respond. He truly didn't know how to answer the question. He sighed and glanced around before quickly kissing the back of Logan's hand. "I'm sure he's fine." He told the smaller, although he wasn't so sure. The bell rung, dismissing the class. Kendall stood up and dropped Logan's hand. "My place tonight? Katie's at a friend's and my mom has date." He whispered to Logan.

Logan smiled and nodded. "See you later, Kendahlia."

"Later, Logie." He smiled and watched Logan leave, before leaving the class himself. He frowned slightly once out of the classroom. Logan was right; there was definitely something off about their youngest friend.

And he was going to figure out what it was.

**Yeah… I'm sorry if that sucked as bad as I thought it was. I wanted to update but yeah. And I am **_** so, so, so, so sorry**_** this is so short! I just… Couldn't really think of anything to write. I **_**PROMISE **_**the next chapter will be longer… So, yeah. This had some Kogan in the chapter so, woohoo for that!:)**

**Sorry for grammar, spelling, and all that crap that were mistakes!**

'**Till the next chapter!.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: Behind Closed Doors****  
><strong>**Chapter 7****  
><strong>**Word Count: 1,124**

**Rating: M!**

**Pairings:**** Eventual James/Carlos, and I decided to have undertones of Kendall/Logan somehow, otherwise general.****  
><strong>**Disclaimer: Yeah, I still don't own BTR.****  
><strong>**Warnings:****Abuse, implied rape, self-harm  
><strong>**Summary:**** AU ****His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.  
><strong>**Author's Note: OHMYGOD. Has it seriously been over two weeks? I am SOOOO horribly sorry. I'm not even going to make up excuses, but I've been busy and I apologize a thousand times.**

**If you haven't yet, please go check out my new story. I just posted the second chapter! Uhm, yeah review on that please!:)**

**And if you wanna know things about the upcoming stuff, I have a new account on twitter for strictly story information. That includes hints about what's coming up in both stories and likely update times. This is strictly for story info and its ImAnAuthoress My personal twitter for, well, everything else is DallieJLovesYou Also, follow me on tumblr .com**

**The end of my follow rant.**

**Before you read, I'm kind of having a fit of writer's block so if this sucks, I'm sorry about that too. Consider this yet another filler chapter; I swear it'll start getting good soon.**

**Yeah.**

**DallieJLovesBTR**

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><p>It had been a month since Carlos had withdrawn from them, and it was killing James, Kendall could tell. His brunette walked around with a frown clouding his features, no matter how hard he tried to fake being glad about their team winning more and more games or just being happy it all. The less and less the youngest showed up, the more and more depressed the beautiful boy became. Kendall would always feel sorry for his friend when he caught him staring longingly at the entrance to the school or at the inhibited Latino, whenever he did bother to show up. Kendall and Logan would try their hardest to make the pretty boy smile a true smile but, without their fourth friend, nothing could make him grin, not even slightly. It had the pair worried about both boys.<p>

Kendall leaned back and sighed, causing his boyfriend to glance at him but then quickly back down at his Calculus homework. They were in Logan's bedroom, both working on homework on a Saturday night. But, as usual, Kendall couldn't focus, to busy focusing on his friends' issues to even begin to focus on his Pre-Calc homework. He lay out on the bed and pulled his beanie over his eyes. "Logan," he said quietly. "What should we do?"

This wasn't an unusual question for him to ask, for he had asked it every day for the past two weeks. Logan sighed and lay himself next to Kendall. "I don't know, Kenny. I really don't"

Kendall groaned. He felt useless right now, like he couldn't help anyone or anything, and he hated feeling like that. "Well, we can't just do nothing. Carlos showed up once this week, and he hasn't even worn his hockey helmet to school. Not only that, but he hasn't been showing up at hockey practice! Hockey is his _life. _Something is seriously wrong with him. Hah, and Mateo's no help either. I walked up to him yesterday after school and he ran away like I was the _plague._ For god sakes, those Garcia boys' have been acting strange." Kendall pulled the beanie back over his eyes and looked over at the chocolate eyes of his true love. "And, James! Oh my lord, James. He's dying, just _dying_, without Carlos around. Have you seen him? His hair has lost its luster and he's distracted and distant. He clings to the falling apart notepad like it's his freaking life. Logie, we're losing our best friends, and neither of them have talked in weeks." He took a deep breath after his rant and closed his eyes.

The raven-haired boy laced his fingers through his. "Babe, just relax. Yes, I know. This is bad. But, you need to just relax, and then think. You've been stressing about it so much you haven't even begun to take a step back and analyze the situation. How about this? Tomorrow, we go over to James' house and make him talk about what's going on with him. If we can understand that, we can fix one half of the situation. Then, next time we see Carlos, let's try talking to him and not just stare at him in a desperate attempt to get him to talk on his own, because that's not working. But, for tonight, it's just me and you." Logan flipped over and lay on top of Kendall. He placed a gentle kiss on the lips beneath him. "I love you, Kendahlia, but you just need to think about something other than other people's problems, sometimes. Think about yourself for a little." He kissed those soft lips once more and smiled when Kendall immediately deepened the kiss.

"I love you too, Logie-bear. Tonight, just us. But tomorrow… I'm worrying again."

Logan laughed into his lover's lips and nodded. "Okay." He connected his lips again, loving the feeling of them on his. He loved this, and never wanted to stop. He hoped he would never have to stop kissing those lips.

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><p>James lay in his dark room, staring at his bright phone. One hundred text messages all sent to the same person over the past month. All had remained unanswered. But yet, he still sent more to his friend, in hopes that finally he would get a response from the smaller. In hopes the Latino would finally tell him what was going. In the hopes the Latino would at least care enough to scream at him not to send anymore text messages, it was making him sick.<p>

He wanted something that showed the Latino was still okay. James rarely saw him anymore and it was causing _him _to be sick with worry. He loved Carlos too much for him to not worry after he had stopped being himself.

Yes, loved him. That's what he had concluded this feeling was. He had concluded that was why he was constantly drawing his friend, why he was constantly writing notes that would never be read, why he was constantly wishing for his friends presence next to him.

James blinked and went to the pictures on his phone. He had so many photos of the Latino it was almost laughable, but it helped him get through the endless days without the actual boy with him. He had pictures that were willingly taken and pictures that were unwillingly take. All from months ago. Now, he had pictures that were taken secretly in the hallway when his friend did show up. None of his face, for he was always staring downwards.

James sighed; he wished he knew what was wrong. He wished he could help at all. But what could he do if he didn't know what was wrong? That was probably what was frustrating him the most. He hadn't a clue what the hell was wrong with Carlos. It drove him mad. He always knew what was going on, before anyone else; it had always been that way. Carlos came to him when anything was wrong. From simple things like a cut knee to more complicated things like a girl cruelly denying him, as the three Jennifer's in his math class did. But this time, he came to no one. Carlos avoided James like he was a virus. It hurt, probably more than it hurt anyone else.

James let out another soft sigh and set his phone down. He needed sleep. For, whether Carlos wanted to or not, tomorrow he would find out was wrong with the love of his life; whether it killed him to find out or not. He had to know what the cause of Carlos' problems was.

He would get rid of it, and keep the one thing he needed more than anything else safe. He would make him happy again.

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><p><strong>Yeah, hope that wasn't too terrible. I will update as soon as I can, I swear. I love you all and please don't forget to review.<strong>


	8. Chapter 8Continuation of Chapter 7

**Title: Behind Closed Doors**  
><strong>Chapter 8<strong>  
><strong>Word Count: 483<strong>

**Rating: M!**

**Pairings: Eventual James/Carlos, with undertones of Kendall/Logan.**

**Disclaimer:** **As much as I would like to, I do **_**not**_** own these boys… The only thing I own is the plot line and whatever OC's come up. This makes me sad, but oh well!**

**Warnings:** **Abuse, implied rape, self-harm  
>Summary:<strong> AU **His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.**  
><strong>Author's Note: I figured that before I post the chapter of confrontation, I should give you all a quick chapter of what's going on with our dear old Carlos! So, yeah. This'll be short and sweet, well as sweet as it can be. Which I guess isn't very much. You know what, nevermind. This'll be short and <strong>_**simple.**_

**Have a great day!**

**DallieJLovesBTR**

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><p>Carlos took a deep drag of the blunt and relaxed slightly. He felt good, as good as he could. He felt good because of the drugs, as one could guess, but nothing else was going good for him. He still took the beatings; his father had raped him at least twice a week since the first time. He had a building amount of cuts all up his arms. He would begin cutting his upper chest as soon as he ran out of room, which wouldn't be long if he kept up at the rate he was going. Carlos took another drag and laid back.<p>

Carlos hadn't been showing up to school, he didn't want to show his face. He didn't deserve to show his face, not with the most recent punishments. Whenever he did show up, he sat quietly in a corner and kept his head down, constantly fidgeting with his clothing. Carlos' eyes were often bloodshot from his high, causing him to feel even worse about his appearance, as if the shame that obviously covered his face wasn't bad enough.

He never wore his helmet anymore. There it sat in the corner of his room, collecting dust. It sat there with his hockey stick and jersey and any and all of his other hockey equipment. He just didn't care about hockey anymore, which shocked him. Hockey had been his first and only love.

Carlos took another drag from the blunt and noted that the high was already taking over him.

He sighed and thought about his friends. They must be worried about him. But, truly, he couldn't care less. If they knew… Oh god, if they knew. He could only imagine what they would think of him. _He's fucked up. He deserved it, the stupid idiot. I hope he dies. I'll never to speak to the retard again, it's his fault his Papi beats him. _Carlos had started to avoid them like they were an illness. He couldn't let them find out, especially not James.

Carlos couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about James _specifically_ finding out terrified him. He wouldn't be able to live on if James were to ever find out just how screwed up he is. It made his heart hurt, it possibly killed him more than the thought of Mateo ever getting the beating for him. It was the worst possible pain he felt. Carlos didn't think he would be able to handle it if the brunette were to ever find out. The god-like figure would never be able to handle him and all his fucking baggage.

Carlos took a final drag and put the blunt by his side, letting the high take over his thoughts as everything changed around him. For the night, he could stop thinking about this, but come tomorrow, it would fill his head again, until the next high came along.

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><p><strong>So, yeah. I felt really repetitive while writing that, so I apologize if it was. Hope that was okay! Reallys short, I know. But next will be much longer! Love you all!:):)Review:)<strong>

**Bonne nuit!**

**DallieJ**


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: Behind Closed Doors**  
><strong>Chapter 9<strong>  
><strong>Word Count: 1505<strong>

**Rating: M!**

**Pairings: Eventual James/Carlos, with undertones of Kendall/Logan.**

**Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Big Time Rush!**

**Warnings:****Abuse, implied rape, self-harm  
>Summary:<strong> AU **His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.**  
><strong>Author's Note: Hey, again! It's lil' ol' me bringing you another chapter. <strong>

**Uhm, Follow me on twitter: ImAnAuthoress**

**Anyway, right before I start, I gotta say… I love the support from everyone. I got a Story Alert from one of my favorite author's the other day and that was great! But, y'all I do love seein' what you have to say. So, please, please, please review!**

**Oh, and this is a little something called word spewing. I NEEDED to update for you all, I've been so busy with other things I haven't even had time to write, let alone any inspiration. So, yeah sorry.**

**One of the longest chapter's yet!**

**Time for some Confrontation! **

**DallieJLovesBTR**

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><p>James clutched his dying notebook and walked up the stairs, to the third floor, room 3C, dark wood door with a bronze door knocker, broken doorbell, and small silver handle. There he would find the Garcia household, two, possibly one, of them in the house, staying quiet, as they often did. The walls would be beige, as they had always been, for as long as he could remember. Mateo would sit silently in the corner, reading some dark novel not looking at Carlos, if he was there. Carlos would be sitting on the couch, watching a children's show, as he always did. Carlos would jump up and hug him and tell him how much he had missed him. At least that what James wished, but, of course, why would that happen? Nothing was going right at the moment.<p>

James sighed quietly when he reached that floor, that apartment, and grabbed the knocker and tapped it three times. He waited patiently, and, to his dissatisfaction, was met by the dark eyes of Mateo. Mateo looked at him confused for a moment before asking, almost silently, "James?" He nodded and asked to come in. He looked over his shoulder, as if taking cues from someone behind him. He shook his head, "My dad isn't home, and Carlos doesn't think we should let anyone in."

James perked up slightly. "Carlos? He's here? Then, well, I have to come in." He tried shoving past the younger boy and was shoved slightly back. He frowned and was met by Mateo shaking his head, insisting that he couldn't come in. "Too bad, Mateo." He told the smaller and got past him with a sharp and hard shove.

James glanced around for a moment; he had been right about one thing. The walls were still beige. But everything else was different. All the paintings had changed, furniture rearranged, the T.V. was silent, and there was no pile of books next to the chair Mateo always sat in when they were younger. Possibly the biggest change was the way Carlos looked. Carlos eyes were in a vacant stare at James, bloodshot, as if he had been high or drunk recently, he was curled up in a ball on the brown couch. James took a step toward the couch and watched Carlos, his best friend, the possible love of his life, flinch away from him. It shattered his heart, that tiny flinch. He turned around for a moment and asked, no, told, Mateo to leave for a while. He opened his mouth for a moment in protest, and then shut it once again when Carlos shot him a glare. He nodded and grabbed his jacket and swiftly left.

James watched as the youngest Garcia left, but quickly looked back at the older and made his way to the couch. He sat close to Carlos, close enough to grab his hand, and, oh, how he wanted to. But at the moment, he waited. He sat silently, hoping for his smaller friend to start the conversation, ask him why he was here, ask him to leave, but nothing came. The younger remained quiet.

James took in a deep breath before asking a simple question. "What's wrong with you, Carlitos?" He didn't know why that was the first question he asked, but it was truly what he wanted to know. He didn't want to deal with idle chit-chat. He needed answers. Carlos stared at a small hole in his jeans. James stared at him.

"Nothing's wrong with me," he whispered, barely audible. He didn't look up, but he did start chewing on his thumb.

_Nervous reaction,_ James thought, almost scribbling it down. It was obvious the Latino was lying to him. He blinked. "C'mon, Carlos, you can't pull that crap on me. You haven't been at school a lot lately, you're eyes are more bloodshot than I have _ever_ seen them, and you've developed a bunch of… Habits. Avoiding people's eyes, pulling on your sleeves, staring at your shoes. You have to tell someone what's bothering you, why don't you tell me?" He moved his hand closer to the tanner one. "I'm here to listen." He engulfed the smaller hand into his, lacing their finger's together and smiling softly.

For the first time in what felt like forever, James saw the chocolate pools he loved so much, but not with their usual subtle smile in them. They were filled with a rage James had never seen him them. Carlos ripped away his hand and jumped up. James heart shattered once again. He wanted to die under Carlos evil glare. "Did I _ask_ to share my feelings, James? Did I? The hell, I did! No one wants to know what goes on in here! And it's been so much worse over the last month!" He screamed. "It's a fucked up world, and I got the short end of the stick! You sit at home, in your cushy, little, fucking mansion and I'm stuck here, getting high all alone! And do you want to know why I do that James? Why I've been hiding from you and _everyone else?" _James was frightened, thoroughly. He had no idea why Carlos went from silent to screaming. He regretted grabbing his hand then. He almost shook his head no, but nodded ever so slightly.

Carlos chuckled darkly. "Sure, you do, of course you do. Well, guess what. I've been waiting to tell someone for _years!_ It's horrible here. It's always been horrible with Papi! _Always!_ You always met the nice hockey dad who let you guys come over a play video games and eat pie with me! That's the only Mr. Garcia you knew. Well, guess what, _I wish that was who he was._ When I was four, I had a baby sister. That bastard killed her! She was only a few months old, James! She didn't have a chance to live! I had a mother, until I was _six_. She committed _suicide_ with me and my brother _across the hall. _I saw her fucking body. That's an image I can never get out of my head. When I was eight, we moved here. I met you and the other guys and vowed everything would change, maybe not at home, but everywhere else. I kept that up until now. But, I'll explain that moment-fucking-tarily." James nodded quickly. "I've always kept this house clean, at age nine, I started taking all the beatings, all of them. A beating a night. James, that's eight years worth of beatings, possibly more. I'd come home from hockey some nights, and get beat for not cooking dinner. I'd get home from games, and get beat for not scoring a goal. I'd get home from school and get beat for having an 'A-'in class. I go t beat for everything! And last month, I got beat for not telling my dad about that hockey game, before the play-offs, and was knocked out for _days_. Then after my dad finally saw my face again, I fought back."

Carlos choked back tears but James saw a few tears fall out. He felt tears falling out of his own hazel eyes as he stared up and the smaller. How could he not have known? Carlos took a deep breath and continued. "He punished me for that. The worst punishment I have ever got for anything. And he's done it over, and over, and over, at least twice a week, every week since. He took something I can never get back, ever!" James swallowed deeply as he absorbed this all. _No, no._ "He raped me! And no heard my screams, not a soul in this apartment complex. That was when I pulled away from all of you! That's when I knew I was fucked up. I couldn't be trusted, because then I'd fuck you all up to. And why do I pull on my sleeves?" He tugged them down for a moment, deciding, and then yanked them up to show James. Scars, scabs, bleeding wounds covered in loose gauze. A flood broke loose from James eyes. He grabbed Carlos' arm and kissed his wrist softly. Carlos yanked away. "I'm fucked up, James. No one could ever love me. Including my best friends."

Carlos fell in a sobbing heap on the floor, curled back into a ball, sobbing into his jeans. James slid to the floor and engulfed Carlos into his strong arms and cried with him. They cried for minutes. James took a deep breath and pulled Carlos' chin up to look him in the eye. Both of their faces were tear stained, but James didn't care. He kissed Carlos' cheek and took a salty tear away. He stared into the now sad eyes and smiled subtly. "Don't tell yourself that, Carrrrlos," he rolled the 'r' the best he could and grabbed Carlos' face. "I will always love you. No matter what's going on in here." He patted his head.

And, to his surprise, and Carlos', pulled the smaller face toward him.

* * *

><p><strong>So, yeah. There you go. I made it extra long for y'all. Uhm, yeah. James knows now! So, yeah. And Carlos knows that James' loves him! Next chapter will be a little continuation of this and then some of the day after this, which'll be Monday.<strong>

**Hope you liked it! I'll update ASAP! Love you all! **

**Please, don't forget to review, please, please, please, please!**

**Later!  
>Dallie.<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Title: Behind Closed Doors**  
><strong>Chapter 10<strong>  
><strong>Word Count:1419<strong>

**Rating: M!**

**Pairings: Eventual James/Carlos, with undertones of Kendall/Logan.**

**Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Big Time Rush!**

**Warnings:****Abuse, implied rape, self-harm  
>Summary:<strong> AU **His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.**  
><strong>Author's Note: Hey there. It's time for another update…<strong>

**But, I do feel terrible I haven't updated my other story yet. But, I will be updating that soon, okay? Yeah.**

**Anyway, a little of a continuation of the last chapter. Then the next chapter, well, you shall see!**

**Gah, quick note, I can't believe I'm already on chapter ten. All the support and reviews are fantastic. All of you reader's are just the best and I love you all so much. If I could I would give you all a giant hug and big, delicious cookie! But... Since I can't, I'll just blow you virtual kisses. Again, your all the best.**

**Here you go, don't forget to review!:)**

**DallieJLovesBTR**

Carlos felt soft lips press against his while strong arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him tight. His body took over and he put his arms around the taller neck and pulled James closer. The kiss became passionate quick, James soon licking his bottom lip, asking for entrance that was quickly granted. The tongue slipped into his mouth, soft as James' lips, and quickly won the dominance in the slight battle between the tongues. Carlos was processing nothing but the pleasure of being that close to James. That is before reality hit him. He was directly next to James. His eyes snapped open as he really realized what was happening. He was kissing James.

Carlos violently pushed James off of him and scooted himself back from James. "No!" He shouted. "No, I can't kiss you. No, no, no. You can't kiss me. That can't happen. It's not right. We're both guys! Even if that was right… James, no matter what you say, no one could ever love me. And you know very well, now, why."

James blinked away at the shock. He stared into Carlos', but Carlos felt like he was staring into his heart and mind. He turned his head away and frowned. James reached out to grab his arms, causing Carlos to scoot even further away. He dropped his arm sadly and spoke. "Carlos… It's not wrong. This is too right to be wrong. Didn't you feel the sparks? C'mon, buddy, you had to have felt that." Carlos touched his lips gently and shook his head. "I know you're lying, Carlos. You know it too. And all that shit that happened to you, is happening to you, that's not your fault! And if you let me in… I can help you."

"Can't you see, James? It is my fault! I'm a horrible child, I make too many mistakes. It's not like my Papi had any choice but to do that." He took a deep breath, once again fighting tears. "And what the hell could you ever do to help me?" He snapped.

"I could go to the cops! They could help." James cried out, desperately.

Carlos only scoffed at that response. He kept his eyes on the ground as he pushed himself off the floor, quickly followed by James. "He is the cops, James." He said blankly. "Why don't you just go?" He said gesturing to the door without looking up.

James looked as if he was going to cry as he walked past Carlos. "I will always love you." He whispered as he past him. Before shutting the door he gave Carlos one last desperate look and left.

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><p>James barely made it home before the waterfall started. "What the hell just happened?" He whispered to himself as he held his pillow close. Carlos was being abused, and he refused help. James knew he needed to help. He had to help. Carlos will not last another two years of this, anyone could see that. If he tried to hold this in again, the consequences of that would be so much worse. It could end in something terrible, like suicide. James felt a sob rip through him at the very thought of losing Carlos.<p>

James sat up, suddenly wanting, no needing, to draw. He began feeling around himself for his spiral, he had to draw. He didn't know what, but he had a feeling it was going to be him embracing Carlos, or the dejected look the Latino had after he had told James. James shot out of bed, finding it was nowhere near him. He looked over his room, not finding it anywhere. He began panicking when he realized where it was. James had left it on Carlos' couch. All of his letters, pictures, and writings. His feelings, his wants and needs.

James collapsed on his floor. If Carlos read that, he might actually believe everything he said. James didn't know whether to cry out happily or cry tears of sadness. Everything in that spiral, held everything he felt in his heart. James felt more tears fall from his eyes as he curled up on the floor.

He smiled softly, thinking of Carlos. He hoped his love would love the happy ones. He also hoped his love would feel what he felt as he wrote and drew the depressing ones. He hoped his love would come to find him after, and tell him… He loved James, too.

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><p>Carlos sat on the couch after James left. He couldn't believe he had just done that. What was even going on his head as that went down? Why did he tell James everything? He couldn't believe he had been so stupid. He had sworn to himself he would never let anyone know, especially not James.<p>

Carlos sighed and drew his knees up to his chest. He glanced around the all too familiar, empty apartment living area. James thought he could get him out of here? Yeah, right. It was far too impossible to save him at this point. He would be stuck living this life until the day _Mateo_ turned eighteen and finally decided to leave. Then he could finally leave, just like he always wished he could. Then Carlos could leave Minnesota and get as from here as he could. Maybe he'd move to New York, or California. Anywhere to get away from his father.

In the midst of his thoughts, something caught the corner of his eye. It was sitting on the couch. It was something he had never seen before, a foreign object. Carlos reached over and picked it up. It was a broken spiral, with James' name written in his beautiful handwriting at the top of the cover. _He must've left it here_, Carlos thought. He quickly fought with himself on whether or not to look inside it, one side of him winning just as quick.

Carlos gently turned the cover page over. More of James' neat handwriting covered the page. A simple _Dear Carlos_ was written on the top line. Carlos continued reading.

_Dear Carlos, _

_What happened? Just yesterday, after being missing for three days, you were just fine. You were yourself. Joking around, laughing, and wearing your helmet. Hell, you even pulled a prank on our English teacher, which, I might say, was pretty funny. But today… Today, you had no helmet. You didn't look up from your shoes while we stood in our circle. You didn't crack a joke. I don't even want to know what's going to happen in English if you are acting like this in the morning. _

_Carlos, what could have made your mood change so quickly? I'm here for you buddy. I've always been here for you and I always will be. Don't be afraid to talk to me, or Logan, or Kendall. It'll be okay, whatever it is._

_Sincerely,_

_James._

Carlos frowned and turned the page. It was a drawing, of him, sitting in English class, probably the same day the first letter was written. He was sitting in the corner of the classroom, staring at his paper in front of him. His curly hair was drawn perfectly, not simply, but down to hairs that stuck out. The frown was etched to perfection. _James drew this?_ Carlos asked himself.

He continued to flip through the spiral. It was filled with more and more letters written to him, Carlos Garcia, and many more drawings, of him or of things that clearly reminded James of him. There was one page with the words _I love Carlos Garcia _written over and over and over again. Carlos ran his finger down the page with that on it and felt happy tears slip through his eyes. He quickly reached into the side table and whipped out a pen.

On the top of the page he wrote_ I love you, too, James _before pushing off the couch and running out the door. He ran until he reached James' house and placed a simple kiss onto the cover. He left it open and set it down. Carlos rang the doorbell and sprinted off, back to the apartment complex.

He reached his room and slid to the floor, more joyful tears slipping from his eyes. He hoped that when James saw what he had written, he would be as happy as Carlos was when he found James truly did love him. Carlos smiled, his first genuine smile in what felt like months, and dropped his head back on the door. "I love you, James. So much."

**Well, I hope that was okay, I posted it this week in an attempt to make up for taking so long. I'll try to update My Own Murderer soon, but yeah. I don't know how soon. Competitions for marching band start in a week, so I'll be busy every day. I'll update soon, I promise! I love you all, and don't forget to review!:)**

**See you all,**

**Dallie**


	11. Chapter 11

**Title: Behind Closed Door**  
><strong>Chapter 10<strong>  
><strong>Word Count:1437<strong>

**Rating: M!**

**Pairings: Eventual James/Carlos, with undertones of Kendall/Logan.**

**Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Big Time Rush!**

**Warnings:****Abuse, implied rape, self-harm  
>Summary:<strong> AU **His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.**  
><strong>Author's Note: I'm a terrible person… I seriously have no idea what to do with My Own Murderer and refuse to update it until I do, so that I don't post some crap chapter. SO yeah, that could be a while… Sorry :'(<strong>

**Anyway, while I wait for inspiration on that chapter, you'll be getting more updates on this! YAY!**

**Here.**

**DallieJLovesBTR**

* * *

><p>Monday morning came much too slowly for all four boys.<p>

Kendall and Logan never went to see James. They spent the day entangled in each other's arms, watching movies and doing, ehhem, other _physical _activities. They knew they would just see him the following morning, they could talk to him then.

James found his notebook and texted Carlos, telling him to show up the next morning at school for they had to talk. He couldn't take his eyes of off the five words etched in stone on paper. He couldn't believe it was true and he had to hear it. He couldn't wait to see Carlos, his one true love.

Carlos, after receiving James' text, waited anxiously for the next morning. He didn't sleep, not that he ever did anyway, but he just couldn't wait to see James the next day. He knew he'd get weird looks, for showing up like he ever so rarely did. But it'd be worth it, he could only hope.

Carlos slung his backpack over his shoulder, much more chipper than he had been in days. He still didn't dare touch his helmet; he didn't feel safe in it, if anything, he felt even more unsafe. Mateo eyed him suspiciously all morning, the sudden change in mood clearly confusing the taller of the two. But he didn't question it, to Carlos' relief. The walk to the school was filled with a comfortable silence, and the boys shared a slight nod before heading their separate ways.

What happened next, Carlos would have never expected.

Carlos walked to his locker withh his head held high to his locker. All of his friends still grouped around there. The first person he saw was James, talking to Kendall and Logan while glancing around and, as Carlos knew, looking for him. When the two of them locked eyes, there was a flash of emotion that passed through James' eyes before he pushed through the pair in front of him and ran to Carlos. Carlos dropped his backpack to the floor moments before strong arms engulfed him and soft lips grabbed his in a passionate tangle of mouth and tongue. There was no one but them. They needed no one else.

Behind them, everyone watched in shock. Kendall smiled and grabbed Logan's hand, for the first time not worrying about what people would say. The captain of the hockey team leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on the lips of his left wing. They smiled at each other and looked back at the scene in front of them. Everyone was gasping, gossiping, freaking out, some in a good way, some in a bad way. But they couldn't be happier.

James pulled his face away from the smaller, smiling and putting his forehead against Carlos'. "I love you more than life, Carlitos." He said, loud enough for anyone within ten feet of them to hear. It earned some more gasping and whispers. He reluctantly pulled apart from Carlos and faced the crowd. He grabbed Carlos' hand and held it high. "Yes, everyone, we're gay. And proud, as you can clearly see. I could never be shameful of being in love with this amazing Latino by my side. And all of you can screw yourself if you have an issue. And if you don't have a problem, you rock." There was a moment of silence before quiet clapping began. It didn't grow much louder, but it was appreciated either way.

James smiled at them all and picked up Carlos' bag, he left his by the locker, and pulled him from the crowded entry way. He pulled him all the way to his car. He pushed him up against the car and kissed his lips once again. Carlos grabbed a fist full of James' hair and tugged slightly. If had been anyone else, James would have been furious, but he just loved being near Carlos. "Let's go to my house," He whispered into Carlos' mouth. Carlos nodded and ran around to the other side of the car, anxious to be anywhere but his house.

* * *

><p>At the end of nearly three weeks, Carlos never wanted to leave James' house. He got fresh cooked meals, cooked by someone <em>other than him.<em> He wasn't getting hit every night. He hadn't been… Touched inappropriately. That is, without his permission first. He had only cut twice since he had been there. He hadn't known any other life than the one he had had with Mr. Garcia and now he knew there was something better. The only problem he could see with this was that he hadn't seen Mateo since Tuesday, but he figured he was just getting high somewhere, until two weeks later, on a Friday night, at dinner, of course.

Carlos hadn't been expecting it, how could he have been? Roberto Garcia hadn't looked at, let alone _touched_, his younger son since Carlos gave everything up to protect him. But it became a cruel reality when he got that picture.

They had just finished the salad James' mom had made for them, and were waiting for to bring out the ribs she had ordered for that day. Carlos felt his phone vibrate and pulled his hand from James. He flipped it open, noticing the small little envelope with a camera next to it from an unknown number. He frowned slightly and clicked enter. He had to close his eyes and blink a few times before he knew what he was seeing was real.

Beneath the words _Where you been, son? With your fag boyfriend? Guess what… He's next if you're not back _was a picture of Mateo laid out on the floor of the living room, nothing but boxer shorts on. He was staring defiantly up at the camera, with what looked like fearful eyes and tear streaked cheeks. Carlos couldn't believe what he was seeing. His arms looked like they had sleeves on, dark purple sleeves with hints of green, blue and black. There were bruises all up and down his legs and chest, clear finger marks could be seen, even through the bad quality of the picture.

Carlos choked back his own tears, and jumped out of his seat. James shot up right after him. "Carlos?" He asked, frightened by the way his boyfriend was acting all of a sudden. Carlos shook his head, mumbling a quiet chorus of 'no, no, no,' under his breath. James stared nervously at Carlos and reached for his love's phone. He stared down at it for moments before looking back up at Carlos. "Carlos, don't leave."

James frowned when he saw, in Carlos' eyes, that he had already decided. "I have to James. He'll seriously hurt you. I can never let that happen." He began his rise up the stairs, to grab the few things he had.

James grabbed his hand and stopped him for a moment. "We could get Mateo out of there. Then no one would get hurt." He said, optimistically. He frowned when Carlos pulled away and ran to the room he had been in.

Carlos was throwing things into a bag, and as he bustled around, he talked. "No, James, you're wrong. The second we get Mateo out of there, is the second he starts looking for us. _All of us._ I can't risk him hurting Mateo anymore, or him hurting you at all. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. He's capable of _horrible things_ and he has no conscience. If I stay here, you're not safe. You get it?" He pushed passed James, who had been stood in the doorway and ran down the stairs.

James tried convincing him again at the door, grabbing his hand and pulling him back in multiple times, but for someone so weak, Carlos was too strong for even James to handle. He let tears fall as he went up and placed a gentle kiss on James cheek, where you could see tears beginning to leave streaks. "I'm so sorry," Carlos whispered. He turned and ran away from the house as quick as he could.

James stared longingly after him, shutting the door once Carlos had left his view. He leaned against the door and closed his eyes, with the Mateo had looked, he had to say a quiet prayer.

"God, I know I don't talk to you much, but I need you to do something for me… Please, please oh Lord, do not make those the last words I ever hear out of that beautiful mouth of his." James fell to the floor in a heap, not able to hold himself up any longer, and sobbed.

* * *

><p><strong>I feel like that was okay. But anyway, yeah, I wasn't really busy this past weekend and Monday is usually my only free day, so yay. You got three updates in one weekend, but the rest of the month, I will be really busy so don't expect much more until November. Sorry.<strong>

**But yeah, don't forget to review Lovelies. Thanks for reading!:)**

**Love you all,**

**Dallie**


	12. Chapter 12

**Title: Behind Closed Doors****  
><strong>**Chapter 12****  
><strong>**Word Count: 580**

**Rating: M!**

**Pairings:**** Eventual James/Carlos, and I decided to have undertones of Kendall/Logan somehow, otherwise general.****  
><strong>**Disclaimer: Yeah, I still don't own BTR.****  
><strong>**Warnings:****Abuse, implied rape, self-harm  
><strong>**Summary:**** AU ****His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.  
><strong>**Author's Note: Uh, hi. Next chapter is now. That is all.**

**Yeah.**

**DallieJLovesBTR**

* * *

><p>It was all over the news.<p>

"…the body of sixteen year-old Carlos Garcia

has been found in an alley way off Main Street..."

The words kept repeating as James sped down the highway to the hospital.

"…his body was badly beaten, with several broken bones…

his father was relieved to see he had been found

after he had went missing the day before…"

James nearly laughed when he had first heard that. Like that bastard would care; like that bastard didn't know what had happened, where Carlos had gone.

"…police are searching for the man

who did this, as we speak…"

Little did they know the culprit was right under their noses, that the culprit was one of their own. What James would do when he got his hands on Roberto Garcia was something no wanted to see.

"…doctors have yet to say whether the teenager will live…

currently in the operating room…"

Carlos had just left James' house two days before, how could he already be almost dead. That was logical. It didn't make sense, it couldn't have happened.

"…we'll back with more news on this random attack

on the Police Chief's son in one hour. Back to you, Michael…"

"It wasn't random, my dear news anchor, "James whispered to himself as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. James hopped out of his car, running to the entrance of the hospital.

It seemed like timed slowed when he skidded into waiting room. The first thing he saw was Mateo. He was standing silently next to his father, in front of a reporter's camera. Roberto was standing there, talking to the reporter, his fist clenched in faux anger and face showing his fake sadness. But James, as he sunk into a shadowed corner, he knew. He could see it in Roberto's eyes, how that sick man really felt. His eyes gleamed in joy at his twisted sense of victory. It made James sick to his stomach.

James hid in the dark corner, watching while they finished up the interview and the reporter left the hospital with a silent apology for what had happened. James stood for a few moments, looking at the father and son. Mr. Garcia sat down and glared at the young boy as he went to sit. Mateo nodded and remained standing, looking at the ground in front of his father.

James pushed himself off the wall and walked to stand behind Mateo, silently. He could feel the poor boy jump when he spoke. "Your one sick bastard, _Chief _Garcia."

The chief lifted his gaze a few inches and frowned, standing and motioning for Mateo to take a step to the side. "James, my son's _boyfriend,"_ he growled out the word like it was a curse. "I have no idea what you're talking about, sonny."

James chuckled darkly and closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Of course you do. You're the reason Carlos is in the operating room." He shook his head again when he heard Roberto try to squeeze in a word. "Don't even try to lie to _me_ about this, Chief. I know everything. Carlos couldn't keep it a secret forever, you know. He burst." James heard a low growl from the older man's throat. He laughed again. "And, in most respectful way I can put this, if he doesn't come out alive, I will kill you." He smiled and walked away from the male, Mateo watching in shock and Roberto watching in anger.

* * *

><p><strong>Short and it sucked, I know, I sowwy! I'll update ASAP! Band season is almost over, so yeah!:)<strong>

**Next chapter will be a sort of continuation of this one, probably. Yeah.**

**Bye:)**

**Dallie **


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